


Trust a Smuggler

by Footloose



Series: May the Fourth [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Footloose/pseuds/Footloose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle is over but the war isn't won.  The Empire is in retreat, and the Republic can't give them the time to recoup their strength when they themselves are running on their last reserves.  When the war hero Arthur Pendragon comes up with a plan to strike at the very heart of the Empire, Merlin isn't about to let him go alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust a Smuggler

**Author's Note:**

> Happy May the Fourth!

* * *

Arthur Pendragon, King of Albion and all the star systems therein, was a man who had rubbed elbows with Senators, with Emperors and Empresses, with Kings and Queens. He was the champion of Camelot, bestowed with awards for courageous service and performance above and beyond the call of duty during the war, and was recognized far and wide as a close ally of the Jedi.

And for some reason, he was sitting in a _dive_ on the wrong side of Ghul Nabor, waiting for a smuggler who had yet to show up. The frothy green beverage that passed as "beer" was stale and tasted of spinach, but at least it was palatable. He couldn't say the same about the bowl of... whatever it was that the waitress had put on the table.

Leon was staring at his plate. It was dim in the cantina, and Arthur couldn't be sure, but if someone asked him, he was pretty sure that Leon was looking a little green. 

"Sire?" Leon asked, raising his head. His eyes stayed glued to the bowl, though, as if he was afraid that it might be something dangerous. "You heard me order, right? I did say _well done_?"

"You did," Arthur said, nodding slowly. He waved an awkward hand in the air and tried to find the positive in the situation. He settled for, "Perhaps that's what passes for _well done_ around these parts."

"Um," Leon said. He took a deep breath to steel himself and raised his fork.

Sir Leon was one of the bravest men that Arthur had ever met, but his respect for the man only grew as he watched the fork make a few abortive attempts before finally spearing his food. Arthur swore he heard a little, worm-sized scream.

His insides twisted. He brought his glass of green frothy spinach-flavoured beer to his lips to hide his grimace.

"It's... not terrible," Leon said, forcing it down. He put the fork on the table, picked up the stained paper napkin, and wiped his mouth. "But I think I'm full."

"You did have a large plate at tea," Arthur said graciously.

"I did, didn't I?" Leon said, looking grateful. "Shame to let this food go to waste, though."

"A shame," Arthur said. He held up his hand before Leon could offer it to him. "I have plans for dinner. Wouldn't do to ruin my appetite."

"Very wise of you, Sire," Leon said, pushing his plate to the edge of the table. It wasn't long before it was taken away by someone who might be a member of the serving staff, but who most likely had been a hungry drinker, instead. They both watched it go without a word. "Do you suppose we should stay much longer?"

Arthur glanced across the cantina at someone cloaked head to toe in navy blue and said, "Ten more minutes, and we're out of here."

A lot could happen in ten minutes even in a back-alley cantina on Ghul Nabor, Arthur learned, but he couldn't help but be grateful when an argument between two patrons escalated into an all-out brawl. He put the remnants of his beer on the table just in time for it to get knocked off by someone who had been thrown across the room, and didn't feel sorry at all, because the warmer his beer had gotten, the fouler it had become.

He met Leon's eyes and they both nodded in agreement. Neither of them were prone to backing out of a fight, but getting knifed in the kidneys in the middle of nowhere was not on the agenda and would interfere with the mission.

They got up, ducked around the fighting, raising their arms in defence only when it couldn't be helped. A lucky punch had caught Arthur in the shoulder, leaving it throbbing, and Leon had a cut on his forehead by the time they reached the exit. 

Crossing the threshold caused a drastic change in setting: from the smoky-stale atmosphere of the cantina to the relatively-fresh air of this side of Ghul Nabor, from the dull roar of conversation and clatter of tambourine-drumming that passed as music to the quiet growl of transport vehicles and city noise, from the collateral damage resulting from a fight over a misunderstanding no one would remember later to the unknown threat of someone following them through a circuitous route to the spaceport.

"Sire?" Leon asked.

"I am aware," Arthur said. Several minutes later, he slowed down as they passed a storefront window, catching his reflection. There was a figure in a head-to-toe navy blue cloak weaving through the crowd, noticeable only because it was the only humanoid-shaped being whose face was hidden from sight. "Keep moving. They'll catch up to us soon."

"Should I radio --"

"Are you implying that we can't handle the situation?" Arthur asked, raising a brow at the Captain of his Guard.

"I am _suggesting_ that our crew might be bored and interested in joining the fray," Leon said instead, snorting.

Arthur considered before nodding. "That's fair. However, I imagine we'll encounter enough excitement attempting to leave Ghul Nabor to have them reconsidering their disdain for boredom."

"Never," Leon said, grinning.

The attack didn't come until they were forced to take a back-alley detour to avoid a massed crowd in the city square and the comparative increase in local police officials attempting to regulate traffic and to dissuade spontaneous riots. They were slowed down by a partially-blocked passageway and were debating doubling back when they heard, "Well, well, well. What have we here? A Princess and his toy soldier."

Someone very large and very tall made a sinister laugh tinged with a throaty growl. Arthur stood up straight, half-shaking his head, because as threatening lines went, that one was rather awful.

"Wasn't there a reward for his capture?" the voice continued, coming closer. There was another growl in response, this time grunting in the affirmative. "Remind me, did they want him alive or dead?"

The answering shrug was made audible by the rustle of fabric and the soft clink of chains.

Leon turned around slowly, his hand on his gun. Arthur eyed him out of the corner of his eye, but didn't turn around. Instead, he very calmly said, "I believe you have me mistaken for someone else."

There was a sharp snort. "Pendragon, aren't you? A bit hard to miss, what with the shiny hair and the flashy ship. Everyone knows who you are. You're the Jedi's lapdog. You don't just jump when they say -- you jump first, running down everyone who's ever looked at the Republic cross-eyed so that they don't have to get their hands dirty. And I'm next on your list."

"Are you?" Arthur asked, putting his hands on his hips. He squinted and tried to make out the graffiti on the wall. He couldn't tell if the writing was a slur against the Republic or against the Empire.

"You're not subtle, Princess," the voice said. "You don't ask around for me in Ghul Nabor without my hearing about it. But you're not taking me in. Oh, no. I'm not about to rot in some Republic prison so that you can gain brownie points with a bunch of wankers. How about we turn this around. _I'm_ going to take you in. The price on your head's enough to keep me in good liquor for the rest of the year."

There was a disapproving growl.

" _Fine_ ," the voice said. "Fix the ship first, _then_ liquor."

Another growl.

"What are you, my accountant? The ship, the debt to the Hutts, and _then_ liquor."

"If you owe the Hutts money, I doubt the reward you'll get for delivering me to the Sith will do much more than pay off the interest," Arthur said, turning around slowly. He kept his hands on his hips and didn't make any threatening movements. He trusted that Leon wouldn't miss his targets. Even if he did, they'd be fine. 

Gwaine stood in the middle of the alley with blasters in both hands, one trained on Leon, the other on Arthur. His companion was a tall, muscular creature of unidentifiable origin -- humanoid in appearance, with an elongated jaw and teeth to spare, a snub nose and round, wary eyes. Some people thought he might be part Wookie, but there were those who had fought Percival and swore up and down that he was part _mountain_ , because he was immovable.

Seeing him up close and personal instead of through a holo, Arthur could see where people had gotten the _mountain_ from.

"Oh, ho," Gwaine said, giving Arthur a lopsided grin. "I was wrong, Perce. You're not my accountant."

Gwaine gestured toward Arthur with his blaster.

" _He_ is."

"Actually," Arthur said, taking the opening for what it was, "I'm offering to be your bank."

The look of confusion on Gwaine's scruffy face was priceless. His blasters were lowered a fraction of a centimetre. "What?"

"I'll pay off your debt to the Hutts if you work for me," Arthur said.

"Why would I do that?" Gwaine asked, ignoring Percival's interested hum.

Arthur started to answer, but he spotted movement behind Gwaine. It was the blue cloak that had been following them ever since the cantina. Gwaine, catching Arthur's distraction, shifted position so that he could point a blaster at Arthur, and another at whatever was coming toward them.

"You may want to hurry this along," Merlin said, pushing his hood back. His expression gave nothing away, but Arthur knew him better than most. The way Merlin's gaze drifted to the left and his head turned ever so slightly hinted that he was somewhat concerned. It had taken a while, but Arthur had figured out that Merlin's _somewhat concerned_ ranked evenly with Arthur's _shields on full, all forces retreat immediately_.

"And who's this?" Gwaine asked, giving Merlin a lecherous grin. 

Arthur scowled, ignoring the flare of possessiveness that rose out of nowhere. Merlin raised an eyebrow, as if knowing full well what Arthur was feeling and mocking him for it. Arthur knew that Merlin was _his_ , that Merlin wouldn't stray, not after everything he'd given up for "I'll explain on the way."

"Oh, no, I'm not going anywhere until --"

A series of bright flashes _bzzzt-ttt_ ed through the alley, bright enough to light up the graffiti. They struck the walls and the rubbish all around them. The group was showered with pulverized dust from the missed strikes. The shots fired in a two-second pattern, and everyone scattered except for Merlin, who turned and drew his lightsabers. Suddenly, the alley was lit up with a different kind of light, an eye-searing blue that turned into a scorching white as the sabers connected with the pulses of laser fire.

There was a low-grinding _whirr_ in the background, a mechanical advance. A high-pitched hum filled the pauses between firing.

In the stutter between blasts, Arthur saw the shadows of advancing combat droids. He returned fire -- they all were, except for Percival, who was shaking a cannon and smacking it on its side to try to get it to work.

" _Move!_ " Leon shouted, grabbing Arthur's arm and shoving him away from the droids. 

Arthur ran, suppressing his urge to call for Merlin. Merlin could more than take care of himself, even in the most dire situations, but that didn't stop Arthur from worrying. Merlin might be one of the strongest Jedi, but no Jedi was infallible.

He very nearly did call for Merlin when the other end of the alley was blocked by a squadron of droids. The squadron leader click-chirped _Fire_ and --

Something fired, all right, blowing a hole clean through the droids.

Arthur blinked and turned around, staring at the smoking barrel of the pulse cannon. Percival grinned at him.

They kept running.

"This way, Sire!" 

Leon burst past Arthur, heading north. Arthur paused to look behind him, searching for Merlin, but there was no sign of him. The pause cost him, though, because when he turned back, there were even more droids, closing in on him.

"Sire!" Leon shouted.

"This way, Princess," Gwaine said, putting a hand on Arthur's shoulder to turn him around. "She won't be as fine as your shiny little carriage, but my ship's a fast lady."

Arthur didn't have to consider his options. He made the decision immediately and barked at Leon, "Go! Don't wait for me! Go!"

He caught a glimpse of Leon's expression, grim and displeased, before turning to follow Gwaine.

They evaded -- and were caught -- by the droids more than once, but Gwaine and Percival knew their way around Ghul Nabor better than any native. They reached a covered spaceport centre that was more of an empty smuggler's den than anything else, barricading the outer doors against the droids.

"Warm up the old girl, why don't you?" Gwaine suggested casually. Percival made a low, grumbling sound before trotting over to the ship.

Or rather, what looked to be a ship. Arthur had a doubletake when he saw the state of it. The _Raptor_ was renowned in certain circles -- so much so that Arthur had even heard of it, usually as a funny anecdote of the _one that got away from Imperial troops_ , but it didn't look half as impressive as Arthur had imagined. He didn't have much time to think about it, though, because the droids had taken shelter and were steadily firing on their position, pinning them down.

Behind them, the _Raptor_ sputtered.

"I regret not finding another way to my ship," Arthur muttered, firing blindly. There was no way to get a shot on a droid, not from where they'd positioned themselves, but that also meant that they couldn't get a clear shot on Arthur or Gwaine, either. Arthur could only hope that these Imperial droids hadn't received a programming upgrade, because they were outnumbered and wouldn't be able to deal with being flanked, too.

"Give her a minute. Every beautiful girl needs a bit of persuasion," Gwaine said. He closed one eye, stuck his tongue out between his teeth, and aimed carefully. When he fired, he hit the gleaming skull of one of the droids where it hadn't properly ducked for cover. "In the meantime, how about you tell me what makes me so important that you'd offer to pay off my debts?"

Arthur returned fire several times before glancing at Gwaine sidelong. He wasn't sure if he could trust the smuggler, but Gwaine was the only lead he had. 

Finally, after firing again and checking his blaster's charge, he said, "You're a smuggler. I need you to smuggle something."

Gwaine lowered his gun and stared at Arthur as if he'd grown another head. "Bit of a bad time to be discussing business, mate."

"You're one of the few who have been to the Outer Rim and back. You're going to take us there." Arthur continued, speaking in a calm, even voice as he kept an eye out for the droids. He ducked when a series of laser blasts struck the walls of the building, filling the air with the smell of smouldering metal and burning rock. "Once we're there, you're going to take us to Morgana Le Fay."

Gwaine snorted. "Yeah, right."

When Arthur didn't reply, Gwaine gave him a long, sidelong glance before shooting at a droid peeking over his barricade.

The droid's head went bouncing against a wall before disappearing somewhere.

"You're serious," Gwaine said. 

Arthur fired twice, catching a droid on the second. Its spindly arms flailed in the air before it went down. He was about to answer when he saw that Gwaine's jaw was set and his brow was furrowed as if in thought. Behind them, the _Raptor_ came to life with a healthy rumble, the jets on the thrusters coming to life in a pale yellowish glow. 

The sound must have alerted the droids, because they were scattering around the barricade and forming several rows, using the droids in the front as sacrifices to get the ones in the rear closer to their targets. There was only so much more that either Gwaine or Arthur could do before they would be overwhelmed. 

They exchanged a glance and retreated to the _Raptor_. The droids breached the door and were firing at them just as they raced up the ramp, a blaze of sparks chasing them.

Gwaine hit the intercom. "Get us out of here!"

"Not yet!" Arthur shouted, kneeling so that he could get an angle shot on the droids. Merlin was still out there. If he'd headed for the spaceport where their ship was docked, he'd realize that Arthur wasn't with them. Knowing Merlin, he'd double back and try to find Arthur, probably getting himself killed in the process. That mere thought made Arthur panic. He didn't want to leave Merlin here by himself.

"They're shooting at my ship!"

"No one's going to notice!" Arthur snapped, standing up. He shifted his blaster from one hand to the other; Gwaine watched the movement even as he went to hug and pet the control panel on the wall.

Gwaine gasped. "Ignore that, baby. He doesn't know what he's talking about. You're gorgeous and sleek and fast --"

The ship rumbled and rose hovering several feet off the ground. The increased altitude made it difficult to disable the droids, but now, the droids were battering the ship's belly. If a lucky shot struck the engines --

Abruptly, the battering stopped. Arthur saw a blur of movement but couldn't make out what it was, and then --

"What are you waiting for, Perce? Shut the hatch and let's go. No, I don't care that the doors are closed, blast them open, you ninny --"

\-- Merlin leaped onto the closing ramp, navy blue cloak swirling open around him. There was a smear of dirt on his cheek, a jagged tear in his sleeve, but he looked none the worse for wear. Arthur released a breath of relief, but when Merlin grinned and brushed his hands in an _all done_ gesture, Arthur rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Gwaine holstered his blaster and looked between them. He was about to say something when the intercom squeaked in short barks and yips that Arthur couldn't understand without a translator droid, but there was no missing the alarmed pitch. Gwaine pushed the button and said, "Yeah, yeah, I'll be right there."

"Problem?" Arthur asked.

"Eh, a couple of Imperial cruisers popped up on sensors. Perce wants me behind the stick before he blows the cargo bay. It'll be a bumpy ride out, so you might want to find yourself a cozy spot," Gwaine said, shrugging nonchalantly. His eyes narrowed, and he wagged a finger between Arthur and Merlin. "No shagging on my ship. If _I'm_ not getting any, no one else is, either."

"It's not what you think," Arthur said, mostly out of reflex. He wasn't foolish enough to think that he and Merlin had managed to hide the depth of their relationship from the Jedi masters, but they seemed content enough to let their two war heroes get away with bending the rules as long as they remained discreet.

_Discreet_ wasn't exactly the word Arthur would describe it, but his men were good at keeping secrets, and as long as Arthur continued to deny it half-heartedly in public, the Jedi Council wouldn't bring their relationship up for censure. Or worse, in Merlin's case -- banishment.

"Oi, I'm not a numpty. I know cold panic when I see it, Princess. You were going to shoot me if we'd carried through and left him behind," Gwaine said, snorting. "Now, snog and celebrate the fact that you're in the care of the best pilot this side of the galaxy, then join me on the bridge. We'll talk terms as soon as we're away."

Arthur glanced at Merlin. Merlin glanced at Arthur. They both looked at Gwaine.

"No _shagging_ ," Gwaine said.

"Whatever you say, Captain," Merlin said, his mouth turned up in the corners. 

Gwaine made a face. "Ugh. At least wipe down after yourselves."

There was another frantic chirp on the intercom, and Gwaine turned away, slamming a fist on the button before disappearing down the corridor. "I'm coming, goddamn it!" he shouted.

Arthur watched him go, and when he turned back, Merlin had crossed the distance between them until they were standing toe to toe. "Next time, how about we try _my_ plan?" Merlin suggested.

"Waiting on the ship while you go and have all the fun? That's not a plan, _Mer_ lin," Arthur started to say, but he forgot what he was about to say when Merlin took him in his arms and kissed him.

His entire world _lurched_ around him at the contact, but that might have only been the ship blasting through the cargo bay doors and careening out of Ghul Nabor's atmosphere.


End file.
